No one traveled these woods at night. Only a few brave souls risked them under a cloudless, sunny sky.
And for good reason.
This forest did not welcome humans. It hunted them wherever they dared to walk.
Hakon crept through the tightly packed trees like a mouse hiding from a cat, ears alert for the sound of uninvited company. Though birds sang to one another overhead, a heaviness in the air lingered, an unnatural presence the wildlife here either ignored or had grown used to.
His hand reached up to brush against the sword on his back for the tenth time in half as many minutes. An ahula might not notice the presence that permeated these woods, but he was not so easily fooled.
The creatures of the wild were not his only threat this night. Here, humans hunted their own.
His unease grew as the birds above took flight, leaving him with only the pale moonlight for company. He stopped. His eyes roamed slowly over his surroundings. Among the tall pines of this forest, though, he was more likely to hear a threat first than to see one.
As near as he could tell, he was alone.
Hakon took two steps forward and triggered a trap.
Dark bands of teho wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his sides and his legs together. He lost his balance and fell forward, his restraints preventing him from reaching out with his arms to protect himself. He landed hard.
Hakon sighed.
Once, such a basic ward never would have surprised him. The incident added credence to his unspoken worry that he was too old, too soft now, for this. If any of the band saw him trussed up like a pig ready for the spit, the violence of their laughter would have driven this wood’s predators miles away.
In that regard, at least, he was fortunate he traveled alone.
With a deep breath, he shattered the bonds that held him. Then he found a fallen tree to rest on. The one who watched these woods wouldn’t let such strength wander uncontested.
His company arrived sooner than expected. A cloud of teho darkened the air before him, then took shape in the form of a surprisingly familiar face. “Good evening to you, Eliav,” he said.
The man who now stood before him appeared to be somewhere in his twenties and in the prime of his life. His short black hair contrasted with Hakon’s long, unkempt blond mane. But it was Eliav’s eyes that belied his youthful look. Dark as his hair, there was a sense of calm behind his piercing gaze.
Eliav was younger than Hakon, but not by much.
“Hakon?” Eliav looked around the forest, suddenly on guard.
“I’m alone,” Hakon reassured him.
Eliav’s eyes narrowed. “That’s hardly comforting.” He watched the trees for several long seconds before accepting the truth of Hakon’s claim. “Why are you here?”
“A personal matter.”
Eliav scoffed. “So important you would risk these woods, and in the middle of the night?”
“I had hoped to avoid drawing attention.”
“She would have known no matter what route you attempted.”
“I assumed as much, but I still felt this was safer. Figured if it came to a fight, at least no one else would be hurt.”
Eliav studied him in silence.
Hakon returned his regard.
For all of Eliav’s own experience, he still gave his intent away. His muscles tensed and his breaths came faster as he steeled himself for the fight to come.
He attacked with teho first.
As Hakon expected.
To Eliav’s credit, he formed his teho into a beautiful attack. Small darts sped toward Hakon from all directions, seeking his heart.
They bounced off him as he covered the space between them in a heartbeat. Eliav was strong by the standards of this age, but that mattered little.
Eliav danced back as Hakon’s sword cut the air where he had once stood. More darts came at Hakon, who swiped them away with the flat of his blade.
Eliav’s nimble feet barely kept him out of Hakon’s reach. He used a thin, tall pine tree as protection, and Hakon cut it down with one swipe of his sword.
Two dozen darts materialized above Hakon, and he was forced to pause his pursuit for a moment. Eliav put more space between them.
Hakon growled. This became tiring.
He embraced teho and launched himself at Eliav.
The duel ended as suddenly as it started.
The speed of Hakon’s pass blew dry brown pine needles away in all directions. Eliav wasn’t fast enough to save himself. Hakon held his sword steady, the sharp edge pressed against Eliav’s throat, hard enough to draw blood.
Eliav held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. He smiled. “Had to try. She would have been upset, otherwise.”
“I might have killed you,” Hakon said.
“I hoped you wouldn’t,” Eliav said. “Rumor has it you’re a changed man. Had to see for myself.”
Hakon shook his head, but stepped away from Eliav, wiped off his blade, and returned the sword to its sheath. “Still foolish.”
He walked back to the tree he’d been sitting on when Eliav arrived.
The other man rubbed at his throat. “You come at a difficult time. She’ll want to know why you’re here.”
Hakon fixed his gaze on Eliav, who had never been a good liar. “She wasn’t expecting me?”
“If she was, she’s told me nothing of it.”
“Would she?”
Eliav thought about the question. “I believe so. She still prefers to keep her own counsel, but I am close to her.” The tone of his statement left little doubt in Hakon’s mind just how close the two of them were. “I believe she would have told me about anything regarding you.”
Hakon’s shoulders slumped. If she hadn’t been expecting him, she probably knew nothing.
Eliav noticed. “What is it?”
Hakon ignored the question. “Could you take me to her? If you speak true, I doubt I will stay long.”
Eliav looked away. “I cannot. If I were to reappear with you by my side, my troubles would never cease. I do not wish to forfeit her trust in me.”
Hakon respected Eliav enough not to press the matter. Though Eliav owed him a favor from long ago, completing the journey on foot wouldn’t take more than another day. His pace could increase considerably once he was sure she wouldn’t send more warriors after him.
It wasn’t the forest he feared, but those who used it as a shield.
Eliav gave Hakon a small bow of gratitude for his forbearance and made to leave.
Hakon held him back for a moment. “You say I come at a troublesome time. Why?”
Eliav shook his head. “It is best for me not to say. You may ask her when you see her.”
“What is she like, now?”
Eliav glanced away again, but this time, Hakon could see it was because he was imagining her. “She’s changed since we saw you last. Much. You’ll see. She’s done good in this world since the war, but she is afraid, and the threat of death has her clinging more tightly to life than ever.”
“Who is powerful enough to threaten her?”
Eliav chuckled grimly. “You truly don’t know, do you?”
Hakon shook his head. “I have lived a quiet life.”
“You should have continued to do so,” Eliav said. “These are particularly tumultuous days.”
“How so?”
Elias offered him a sad smile. “The telling would take a full evening and several pints of ale, and I must return soon with news before she sends others.”
“Shall I see you again when I arrive?”
Eliav looked pained. “Is there no way of turning you aside? I fear how she will react to your arrival, though I will try to smooth the way. But she’s gathered enough teho to threaten even you.”
“I’m afraid not. I mean her no harm, so long as she’s done none to me, but I must speak with her.”
“Why? What is so important that you would risk so much?”
Hakon looked up to the moon, wondering if somewhere, someone else was also staring at it. He hoped so.
He returned his gaze to Elias. His heart felt heavy as he admitted the truth.
“It’s my daughter, Cliona. She’s missing.”
